


sleepless nights, fallen stars

by chasingstarlight



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Comfort Sex, F/M, Heavy Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-16
Updated: 2014-06-16
Packaged: 2018-02-04 20:12:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1791754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chasingstarlight/pseuds/chasingstarlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She loves him so much, it breaks her apart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sleepless nights, fallen stars

The possibility of losing him hadn’t registered to her until he was bleeding beneath her palms.

Sometimes a person could change you, she used to think to herself. Or maybe they brought out who you really were. A test, so unwaveringly honest it and brazen that it could make them tremble. 

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, repeating the utterance like a mantra, choking on a sob in a way she hadn’t recognized as her own voice, pressing desperately to apply pressure to the gaping wound in his abdomen, but crimson was spilling faster than it could be stopped, and he was subtly trembling as his frame became overwrought with shock. 

“Don’t,” he slurred slightly in disoriented tenor as exhaustion threatened to claim his body, the words a sullen sigh as her tears stained his cheek, eyes attempting to flutter shut, only to be greeted by the sharp sting of her palm.

“Scott, no.” she commanded through soft sobs, smacking his cheek once again. “Just stay with me, stay with me.”

He wondered why it mattered so much to her, that the all encompassing darkness was forbidden to take him under, that she wouldn’t allow it, and she wanted to take his pain, but there was too much, more than enough to ensnare in bouts of blistering madness and it was his own to take on. Just his, like anything else he could shield her from. Most times, he wondered why she cared at all. 

“Alli--” he grunted, attempting to sit up, momentarily forgetting the intensity of his wounds before collapsing back onto the ground into her lap.

She’d simply cradled him in her lap, internally breaking as she pondered weakly in an attempt to figure out how to live without him.

Luckily, she doesn’t have to. For now, anyway.

He awakens in the hospital to find her there, fingers grazing the dark hair shielding his face. It’s her sobs that alert him, but he only lies sweetly once he can find his words. She turned away, red rimmed eyes heart wrenchingly averting his dark, chestnut stare and all he wanted was to comfort her, but she wouldn’t let him. She’d lost so much already, and with a swift rush of air to her lungs, the tension mimicked asphyxiation and she was drowning in her own sorrow and intoxicated by her own relief. 

He was the one in the hospital bed, but she needed to be tended to more -- she was frail and emotionally spent, and he couldn’t help but wonder how long she’d been there with him as the lilac shade beneath her eyes alarmed him of her sleep deprivation. 

They release him a week later, and at night, she doesn’t sleep either. Her attempts are painfully unsuccessful; she cries out in the night once the terrors grasp her and it awakens him most nights. He doesn’t allow her to dismiss it the third night.

“Nightmare?” He doesn’t need to ask, because he knows the answer and she can only nod, quivering beneath the sheet as if still overwhelmed by the sordid images of his bloodied frame, not longer the warmth and reassurances, the deep musk that reminded her of earth’s essence, uniquely him, but a shell of his being, a corpse. 

He brings her palm to his bare abdomen, just above the spot she’d desperately held a few months ago, like he knew. 

“I’m okay,” he murmured to press a kiss to the curve of her throat, and she shuddered, but it wasn’t enough, and her mouth turned to graze his own, deepening the kiss out of a frenzied urge to sate her mind and body. 

Her finger curled into the waistband of his boxers, and his breath hitched as her gaze found his own, silently pleading with him even if she never needed to. She burned hot, and as cool lips found their way to her throat, offering a languid suck long enough to leave a mark, the dull ache between her thighs followed along with the broken sigh of his name. Her palm coiled about his shaft, offering a few firm strokes and he grunted out of frustration, dismissing her hand only to be met with a pleading gaze, though it soon vanished once he rid himself of his clothing. She shifted to straddle him, positioning herself atop him only to sink down onto his pulsing shaft, remaining there for a moment to adjust before she controlled the motions, her hands entwined in his as hips rocked into hers slowly, as if to savor every ounce of her. The pace picked up, and she dipped down, outcries spilling against his mouth as a hand snaked forward to thumb her clit just before he shifted to push her beneath him. Her dark stare met his own, and he drove into her over and over, thumb grazing her sensitive flesh in rough, slow circles until she unraveled beneath him, breaking apart in the most sinful way as his own release followed in wild, hot spurts. 

They remained a cocoon of tangled limbs, basking in each other’s warmth. She slept soundly that night. Sometimes it worked -- but the nights he succumbed to sleep’s embrace, she rested there, fingers quivering with the urge to shake him awake, and sometimes she does, finding startled bright eyes wide open, burning their promise into her skin that he’s alive and it’s all she needs until the next night. 

She loves him so much, it breaks her apart.


End file.
